Empty Houses, Empty Hearts
by mantisbelle
Summary: "I'll consider it." James finally said, after a little too long. "I wanted to speak to you." "And?" Qrow asked. James let out a heavy sigh. "I wanted to discuss your accommodations with you." He mumbled, just loud enough to ensure that only the two of them would be able to hear what he was saying. "I'm sure that you've… realized that you can't be placed in the dorms."
1. Chapter 1

Qrow couldn't remember a more chaotic day in his entire life that _wasn't_ also the Fall of Beacon.

Stealing an Atlesian Airship, landing in Mantle, fighting grimm and giant mechs, _almost having to watch his niece die_. All for him and the gaggle of children he was somehow supervising to get arrested by Ironwood's favorite soldiers, and then as the cherry on top, dragged to Atlas Academy in cuffs.

Exhaustion tugged at his entire form. All Qrow wanted at that point was to be able to just _sleep._

But that wasn't going to be happening anytime soon.

He wasn't the only one feeling it either, but the kids had been given two dorm rooms to use while they were in Atlas. James would see to it that they were all taken care of, he always had a softer spot for his students than he did anyone else. The kids would be given hot showers and soft beds, then treated to a hot meal and probably even given a day or two off before they were expected to start acting like they were at Atlas as students, or training, or whatever else James came up with for them to do.

At least, that was what Qrow expected. James probably would have preferred for them to be able kids again. And maybe for the kids getting a dose of normal school life again would be a good thing.

Qrow sure as hell would have been _elated_ to go back to just being a student after the months on the road that those kids had endured. Hell, even further back than that.

But he doubted that would be what happened. The kids knew about Salem, it was a matter of time before they were being treated as full-fledged Huntsmen and Huntresses and going on full missions.

He'd spent all of twenty minutes wandering Atlas Academy after James had pulled him aside for a desperate hug. That hug that had been so significant that all that Qrow could think of was not only how tired he was, but how tired the general had to be.

James, who probably wasn't going to give himself a chance to rest until he was dead certain that the kids were all settled in. James, who was juggling a school, a military, his own secret plans, and who could even imagine what else. James, who was carrying the fates of two kingdoms and possibly kingdoms oceans away on his shoulders.

James, who had spent two years without anyone but his own subordinates to help carry that weight.

The guy who had held onto Qrow a little too long, and a little too tightly. Like he'd been afraid to let go because he knew that Qrow was the _only_ person he could consider a friend instead of a colleague.

After that, Qrow couldn't help but feel like keeping his distance might have been the best choice. That way he was less likely to end up screwing James over.

But then he doubted James would allow it. James, who probably would start to worry the second that they didn't hear from each other for too long— not due to an issue of control either. James who had been cut off from everyone ever since he'd departed from Beacon. Who probably had thought that Qrow and everyone else he cared about had _died_.

The only reason that James would have heard that Qrow and the kids were alive were a single letter, sent on a train. It could have just as easily found itself in the snow with Qrow, Oscar, and Team RWBY as it could have arrived in Atlas.

James was no doubt carrying the weight of Ozpin's death solely on his own shoulders, along with every single death in Vale, regardless of how justified it was.

Qrow knew James. He wasn't going to talk about it, the same way that James didn't talk about his injuries. That was the Atlesian Way though, Qrow thought. Out of sight and out of mind. Feelings meant to be bottled, contained, and felt only behind closed doors.

Hugs only meant to be far from the eyes of anyone else.

The younger ones had an easier time with being open with their feelings, Qrow knew. James had been grown up on strict rules and well aware of his kingdom's history. The emotional, big parts of James were there, but so hidden that Qrow sometimes doubted they were there in the first place.

In his wandering, Qrow found himself stopped in a tiny alcove in Atlas, one which had been decorated with paintings of each of Atlas Academy's past headmasters. There was James' predecessor, and the man before him who'd had a brief time in office, and the one that founded the school, as well as the one who had helmed it during the Great WAr.

Qrow couldn't help but notice that James didn't have a painting in the alcove, and it left Qrow to wonder whether the paintings were only ever commissioned upon retirement, or whether James had refused himself one. Probably too concerned with what would happen the moment someone pointed out the strip of metal on his brow. Just another scrap of paranoia that had never gone away, only to get piled upon over the years.

James was _exhausting _himself.

Qrow let out a breath and leaned against a wall, wrapping his arms around himself. He just wanted to get a hot shower, something to eat, and a warm bed. That was all.

Finding a hotel would be cheaper down in Mantle, but it'd put him further from the kids.

A knock of knuckles against the wall broke him from his thoughts.

"Qrow." James said, voice too quiet. "Are you alright?"

Qrow blinked. "Yeah." He answered. "Why aren't you here?" He gestured towards the paintings on the wall, letting himself linger on Headmaster Argent Silver, who had filled James' role years before. Qrow had first met James because he'd been accompanying the old man to Vale as an aide of sorts. No doubt he'd been getting groomed to become the James Ironwood that Qrow had grown to know.

"A good opportunity to have a portrait done hadn't arisen." James answered simply. "How could I focus on something so… insignificant, when the world is falling apart?"

Qrow felt his stomach flip at James' words, because he knew more than _anything_ else that James was telling the truth. The honest truth. He had no time for the niceties of his job, no room for the comforts of his position. The luxuries he took were only the ones that he couldn't deny without causing alarm.

When the world fell apart, and it was really starting to feel more like a _when_ than an _if,_ James would die without anything at Atlas Academy to immortalize him. If anything, it seemed more that James was willing to die with a ruined reputation and a tarnished name.

All for the good of Remnant, the good of Atlas.

James Ironwood was ready to die a pariah. He was ready to die as someone deemed unworthy of immortalization or reverence. He was ready to go down in history as nothing other than hated, so long as there was a chance for that history to be written as life moved on after.

"I dunno." Qrow shrugged. "Just seems like you should get one done before things get too much worse."

James seemed to consider Qrow's point without any words for him. "I'll consider it." He finally said, after a little too long. "I wanted to speak to you."

And god, if Qrow knew anything about anything at that point he would have been glad because at least that way he could have figured out what was going on in James' head. The hug had caught him off guard enough. What else could James have possibly been sitting on that needed to be discussed privately?

"And?" Qrow asked.

James let out a heavy sigh. "I wanted to discuss your accommodations with you." He mumbled, just loud enough to ensure that only the two of them would be able to hear what he was saying. "I'm sure that you've… realized that you can't be placed in the dorms."

Qrow nodded slowly. Yeah, he'd gotten that. It would have been weird at the best and massively inappropriate at the worst. "I figure there's gotta be inns or something out in the city? Maybe down in Mantle?" He asked. "I'm sure they don't exactly turn away at lot of huntsmen."

James frowned. "If that's what you would prefer I could point you in the direction of a decent one." He said. "Perhaps even get the Academy to pay for your bills…"

Qrow eyed James. Something was _wrong._ Something was always wrong those days. It wouldn't have been the first time that Qrow had ended up in a hotel room in Atlas, and it sure as hell wouldn't have been the last. James had never bothered with grand overtures before, but…

But things were different.

Whatever was bothering James, the headmaster wasn't spitting it out.

"What is it?" He finally asked. "Normally you wouldn't care."

James sighed heavily. "I was going to offer you one of my spare rooms."

Just like that, the alcove went dead silent because Qrow didn't really know what he was supposed to do with that. The hug had been weird enough to begin with. He didn't really know what else there was going on in James' head, and he wasn't wholly sure that he wanted to find out.

"Oh." Qrow murmured. "That's new."

Qrow had also been _pretty _sure that James had never invited him over because of his semblance. If he'd been in the General's place, he probably wouldn't have invited himself over either. Not unless he really wanted to see a support beam fall, or to end up with a particularly stubborn leaky faucet to deal with.

Not that James was unable to fix it himself. If he couldn't, Qrow would have been surprised.

"I suppose so." James said. "But I figured that it might be… easier. You'd be closer to the academy and your nieces."

Deflecting. James was deflecting away from the possibility that he was asking Qrow to stay with him because he _wanted_ Qrow there. The man had been so desperate to hug Qrow, and he still couldn't make himself address why he wanted Qrow to come and stay with him for real.

James was tired though. Qrow was too, and he hadn't had a drink in hours so _that_ was starting to get to him, but there was something about James that was bone-deep. A level of exhaustion was there which was just impossible to shake, and Qrow _knew_ it. He knew it just as well as James did. Odds were that James was never going to be able to feel rested after everything he was putting himself through.

If Qrow had to guess, James was asking him to stay with him because he was afraid of going home to an empty estate, which was meant for many people more than just one man.

Shit, he could get being lonely. He got it better than anyone else in all of Remnant did. But James was dragging it out in ways that it didn't need to be. He was hurting himself for the sake of something that Qrow could never quite make sense of.

He let out a quiet sigh. "Yeah," He finally gave his answer, not entirely happy about it. "Sure."

At that point, Qrow's main hope was mostly that he'd be able to get a shower in before bed, and maybe even borrow some pajamas so that he could get the clothes that he _did_ have cleaned. That seemed like a nice enough idea.

"Alright." James mumbled, turning away from his predecessors but never turning his back on Atlas. "I just need to finish up some things and then we can go."

Qrow mostly hoped that it wouldn't end up taking too long. He didn't want to have to sit around in James' office all night. Because dammit Qrow _knew_ how James was. He knew that if James was left unchecked the two of them would be stuck there all night. James wouldn't be able to put down his work at any point. He'd have to be locked out of Atlas' systems and forced home.

If the rumors that Qrow had heard, that wasn't too far off from the range of possibility either. James was a problem when he was engrossed in his work. Always had been too stubborn for his own good, really. There was a reason the general and Ozpin had always found themselves bickering.

James led them back to his office. Qrow had to choose a wall to lean against, unsure what to do with the profound lack of any seating in James' office. He figured that there had to be furniture somewhere, but if what Qrow guessed was accurate, it was all under their feet until it was _needed_.

He never wanted to see what happened when Atlas Academy suffered a power failure, that was for sure. It had to be utter anarchy.

James took his seat at his desk and Qrow waited, the only sounds being the quiet clicking of James' fingers on a keyboard. If he was just answering some emails, Qrow thought, there was no reason that they still had to be there. Unless James was adjusting his schedule for the next day.

Making time for him and the kids, Qrow realized belatedly.

"We'll be done soon." James assured Qrow, still typing. "I apologize."

The general stared straight ahead at the screen in front of him, not even bothering to look away from it as he typed more and more.

"That important?"

"Information that has to be handled on a secure server." James answered, sure to keep his voice down. "One of many security measures we've started taking much more seriously since…" His voice trailed off. James didn't need to say what he meant for Qrow to be able to get it.

Paranoia wasn't going to go away anytime soon. It only made sense that James' worries stretched into everything in the world around him.

Or maybe, Qrow thought, it was a standard procedure that had been in place for decades and had only been made more strict. That was certainly possible.

"Got it." Qrow sighed. "Just don't take too long. I'm tired and I've had a long day."

James looked up and over at him, like Qrow had just shocked him from his thoughts. "I'm going to assume that you'll say no if I ask you to join me for drinks, then."

Qrow looked across at James. What the hell was that even supposed to mean? He couldn't seem to get a handle on what James was thinking anymore. Since when did he and James _ever_ go out for drinks, especially in the last decade?

Yeah, Qrow thought, it had to just be because James was lonely.

He let out a heavy sigh. "I've… actually been trying to quit."

James straightened up entirely, spine straight as the trees James' family was named for. "You're… sober?"

"Yeah." Qrow blinked. "I mean, today's just the first day, but… I think I've gotta stop."

"What brought this change on?" James asked.

Qrow sighed. "Too much time spent being useless when the kids needed me to have things together. Almost got myself and a few of them killed because of it. I can't let that happen again."

"I apologize." James said. "If it helps, I can have the liquor cabinet locked." With that he finished off the last of the message that he was sending before James rose to his feet and opened the top drawer of his desk to remove the few personal items that he allowed himself.

Along with the keys to his place.

Qrow felt his stomach flip. What the fuck were they doing? He could have lived with him and James seeing each other and being at each other's throats as usual. After all, why wouldn't they be, when James was so obviously _slipping_? When Qrow had been out of contact for so long?

That was why they'd fought the last time, Qrow reminded himself. Because there hadn't been any contact.

Because James had thought he'd been dead.

What was there that was supposed to make this different?

James though, he carefully locked the drawers on his desk and checked that he had his two guns on the holsters at his side. Due Process, and the black one that Qrow couldn't even recall James ever drawing, not even once.

It occurred to Qrow then that he'd never seen James go through such an intimate ritual before. They'd always ever met on Ozpin's turf. James had only ever had rooms and airships to go home to. Never an actual home.

James at home was something else, and his office at Atlas Academy was just as impersonal as the temporary one that he'd been given at Beacon Academy. Qrow nearly felt himself get sick at the realization that it was entirely possible that James' home would be just as sparse as his apartment at Beacon had been.

"Are you ready?" James asked, having already opened the door.

"Yeah." Qrow muttered, stalking forward to follow after the general. They had to take the elevator back down to Atlas' ground floor, and then James led them out to where a car was already waiting for them. James gestured for Qrow to get in first before he followed.

After that, they were driven to James' home in relative silence.

James barely even looked at him, fidgeting with his keys by running a thumb over the teeth.

The car pulled up in front of what Qrow could only describe as a _manor_. It was bigger than any house he'd ever seen himself, probably bigger than he'd ever been in either. Certainly not what he would have pictured James choosing to live in.

"You never mentioned having a mansion." Qrow commented, looking over at James. The general's ears immediately started to turn pink at the mention of it. Embarrassed. Figured.

But James got out first, sliding his hands down into the pockets of his greatcoat. "It's a state manor." He explained as he led the way to the front door. "A temporary lodging given to whoever leads Atlas' military for the moment." James quietly began to unlock the door, hesitant. "Don't think so much of it. The truth is that it's only mine as long as I have my position."

Qrow nodded along, and followed James inside.

Immediately he was met with a large foyer, immaculately kept. It looked more like it was trying to show off the might of Atlas than present itself as someone's home. But James ignored it, he simply seated himself on a small bench off to the side and removed his boots, one by one. Qrow did the same, kicking off his shoes with significantly less care.

James traded his boots for padded slippers. Probably so padded on one side so that his footfalls would sound like they were _normal._

"I'll show you to your room." James said as he slipped off his greatcoat and set it on a hanger on the wall. Qrow considered doing the same with his cape, but thought better of it a moment later. He didn't have the right to go making himself at home there just yet. Not when James didn't even seem at home in a place where he'd been living for what Qrow assumed were years.

Qrow looked up at the ceiling, the chandeliers. "Fancy."

"Came with the building." James admitted. "Along with several other things. You'll find that I have a small staff here, I hope that's alright."

Qrow blinked. "Uh, yeah should be fine." He walked a little faster, just to make sure that he was walking at James' side as his friend started on his way up the stairs, his gloved right hand gripping the railing carefully. "So what are we talking, maids?"

"A maid, a butler, and a cook." James answered him. "It's all I have any use for, and even then I barely put them to work."

So he lived alone then, Qrow thought. At least that explained why it wasn't such a big deal for James to offer him a place to stay.

Well, that and he clearly had an abundance of spare rooms.

"Yeah," Qrow said. "Should be fine."

"Good." James sighed as he led Qrow down a hallway and to the right, to show Qrow to a row of apartments, each labeled with small insignia on the doors. James walked him down the row, and Qrow watched the symbols for each of the kingdoms pass him by.

James paused in front of the door that was marked with Vale's emblem, painted in green ink onto a small metallic plate.

"This is meant to house dignitaries." James said quietly. "You'll find everything you need at your exposure. When dinner is prepared there's a house-wide call. Impossible to miss. I'll be sure to show you down to the dining room—"

Qrow gave James a weird look. What had happened to the guy that had been relieved to see him? What was this _awkwardness?_

"Where will you be?"

James sighed. "My personal apartment is in the west wing of the manor." He explained. "So I'll be there."

"Why?"

"Why?" James echoed, confused. "It's where I live. And I assume you want a chance to settle in and rest."

"But you've gotta have more rooms over there." Qrow prodded. "I mean, this place is probably meant to house the general and their _family_, right?"

James let out an annoyed sigh. "_Yes._" He answered, raising a hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose like he had a headache coming on. "But as things stand, the only room there that is prepared to have someone live in it is my own. The rest of the family apartments are currently serving different purposes. You'd find that none of them have beds, nor any other amenities. They aren't suitable for guests as things stand."

Again, there was that something heavy settling down into Qrow's stomach.

If James had wanted, he could have had not only Qrow, but also all of the kids stay in his personal home. But he hadn't.

It was like he didn't even want to _consider_ having other people so close to him.

And yet he'd _insisted_ that Qrow stay with him. What the fuck was James even _thinking? _Where was his mind anymore?

James gently pushed the door open to the room that he'd chosen to offer Qrow.

He couldn't exactly pretend like it wasn't a nice place. The bed was huge, there were dressers and a closet. There was a screen on the wall so that Qrow could watch as many shows as he wanted. There was a computer at a desk. Even the blankets and sheets looked like they'd been specifically laid out for him.

Qrow looked back at James.

"I figured you'd want to spend more time together." He said, removing Harbinger from his back so that he could rest it against the wall. "Since you were interested in getting drinks."

James looked away from Qrow, ashamed. "I'll let you get settled in." He said instead, pausing as he began to close the door. "You have a bathroom suite attached. The hot water is the dial on the left." There was another pause. "I'll see you at dinner."

And with that, James left Qrow alone in an apartment which wasn't meant only to put on good appearances for a guest of power.


	2. Chapter 2

After months of being surrounded by the kids, or in the wilderness, or both Qrow couldn't help but think that James' home was too quiet.

It was so quiet, in fact, that Qrow couldn't really get himself to settle in at all. Not after so many months of taking care of a bunch of kids who were able to make _anything_ noisy, even sleeping. James may have enjoyed his quiet, but Qrow was at a point where it felt like noise was all he knew anymore.

And James had set him up in the quietest part of the building, furthest away from anyone else on an _excuse_ which Qrow couldn't help but think barely made any sense in the first place.

He missed the kids. They were back in the dorms at Atlas, comfortable and happy. Hell, Ruby and her friends had probably already installed bunk beds in their room. Even if they weren't sleeping, at least they had each other for company.

It was _stupid_. His first night in a _long _time with a chance to get some honest sleep in an actual bed, and Qrow couldn't even manage that much.

At the very least, he couldn't imagine James caring too much if he got out of bed and tried to walk around and explore the building at least. Any doors that were meant to be locked were likely kept sensibly shut, that was how James was. Qrow couldn't remember him any other way.

Qrow slipped out of bed and into the pair of slippers that he'd found under the bed for him. They were soft and comfortable, and when Qrow looked close he realized that they were made of wool. When his skin touched them they warmed up immediately. Fire dust woven into the fabric, an old Atlesian standard from before the climate control generators had become standard.

He couldn't be too surprised that the old standards were still there. Atlas loved its traditions, so long as they didn't have to acknowledge Mantle in the process.

He entered out into a hall that was lit only by wall sconces, kept to give off as little light as possible. It was possible, Qrow thought, that they weren't even kept on unless there was someone staying in the east wing.

As Qrow walked further and further down the halls, he realized just how cold and _empty _James' home was.

The guy was truly alone, and he was crumbling.

What a mess.

The west wing was there, lit with the same dull sconces. The only thing different was that at the end there was a door that had been left ever so slightly ajar, light streaming out from the crack.

Either James was up, or he'd left a door and some lights on.

Qrow swallowed, slid his hands down into his pockets, and followed the light.

When he reached the door, Qrow craned his neck slightly to realize that it was James' study. Books covered the walls, a small fire was burning in the fireplace, and Qrow had to assume that James was in there.

He knocked on the door, which swayed open with the impact.

"Yes, Marlon?" James spoke, assuming it was someone else. Probably the butler that he'd mentioned. He didn't bother to look to the door and who it could be.

Qrow rolled his eyes. "Not who you think it is." He greeted James.

"Oh." James mumbled. He didn't look to the door still. "Qrow. Come in."

WIth that, Qrow pushed the door open the rest of the way. When he stepped in, he realized that James was seated at a table in the corner, a book open in front of him, and a tumbler of some old amber liquid in his hand.

His stomach flipped. James had said that he'd have the liquor cabinet locked _for him._

James drained the glass, probably feeling somewhat guilty about drinking in front of someone that was meant to be getting sober. Qrow approached and slid down into the empty chair across from James. It was plush and comfortable, with the same fire dust activation upon contact as his slippers.

"What're you doing up?" Qrow asked, his eyes straying down to the book that James was reading. He couldn't make out the title from the angle he was at, but the book had been read over and over again. The bits of spine that he _could_ see were worn down. Little flags stuck out from between the pages. The tome had been well loved, and often referenced. There was no doubting that.

James sighed. "I have work to do."

"Doesn't look like work." Qrow said, leaning back in his seat. "Looks like you're just reading."

James sighed and closed the book, sliding a thin ribbon bookmark into place before he set it down on the table between them. _Preparing for the Inevitable: On Acceptable Losses _by Argent Silver.

The book title at least managed to answer a couple of questions about what James was doing up. _Acceptable losses,_ like such a thing was possible. Qrow knew that sometimes people died and it wasn't something that could be avoided. James knew it too. It was probably why he was leaning on the work of his predecessor to ease his mind.

But James wasn't the type to sleep easy. He never had been, not since the day that Qrow had first met him. He'd caught the general drinking after hearing of losses more than once.

If it had been Qrow in James' place, he probably would have been on one hell of a bender after the Fall of Beacon.

"It's work." James finally muttered, like that was going to be enough to excuse the entire issue. "Did you need something?"

"Nah." Qrow stretched his legs out in front of him, lavishing in how warm the seat was for just a moment. "FIgured I'd make myself comfortable though."

"Of course." James said, already preparing to reach for his book again.

All that Qrow wanted was for the world to make sense again and to get some goddamn sleep. There was no chance that he was going to be able to get some rest, but all Qrow wanted was for some goddamn clarity. Something to put that hug from earlier in a place that managed to make at least a scrap of sense.

Qrow fidgeted slightly. "Any idea on how the kids are doing?"

"If anything is wrong in the dorms, it will be reported to me." James answered without any hesitation. "As would anything else that went wrong at the academy in general."

"I'm not going to lie to you," Qrow started. "I'd been under the impression that you lived out of your office."

James eyed him. "There's a cot for cases of emergency." He admitted, even a little smile stretching over his expression. "I don't generally prefer it."

Qrow snorted. He couldn't really be surprised by what James said, since he was probably the greatest workaholic that Remnant had ever known. Probably explained the keeping himself alone bits, Qrow thought.

The James he knew wanted family, warmth, _friends._ The James he knew also had no time or energy to spare for any of them.

Qrow stretched out. "You got a kitchen in there too?"

"The most I've been able to get away with is a coffee maker and a microwave." James sighed, picking up his book and thumbing at the edge of the cover like it would soothe him.

"I haven't had coffee in so long." Qrow admitted. Being on the road constantly hadn't really left him many chances to just enjoy food and drink. Their stay at Haven had given the kids some chances to rest, while Qrow had been searching for help and answers about what was going on in Mistral.

Given what he'd learned, it had been anything other than a vacation.

James nodded. "You could come to my office and help yourself."

"Yeah." Qrow snorted. "Or I could probably just ask your butler." He paused for a moment, letting himself eye James because that was still so _different_ from what he would have expected from James. James _hated_ people doing things for him. From what he could tell, James had always had a fiercely independent streak and the injuries had only worsened it. "Marlon, right?"

James let out a heavy sigh. "I suppose that you could." He admitted a moment later. "If you wanted to."

Qrow blinked. "Something wrong with your house staff?"

"No." James answered him. "Quite the opposite. I think that they… enjoy that I don't give them much to do, since they're still paid a significant salary." He still thumbed at the edge of his book, and when Qrow took another look he could see the wear on the copy. It was an old hardback, but the spine had clearly been put back together carefully with a strip of tape at some point. The book's jacket couldn't hide that the copy was old and abused.

When Qrow looked close, he could see water damage on the edges of the pages.

It had never occurred to him that James would be the type to bring reading materials into the field with him.

He leaned back in his seat. "Must get lonely."

James shrugged, trying to act like he wasn't bothered by Qrow's observation.

He didn't want to talk about it, that much was clear.

There wasn't a whole lot that Qrow knew about James' life in Atlas aside from him being constantly working at something. He knew that James had a nonexistent personal life, and a private doctor somewhere on Solitas but nothing else on the matter. Given that he'd met Pietro Qrow had a hunch he knew who the doctor was, but also knew better than to ask. Even if he did James wouldn't tell him.

Even still, the guy that he knew in Vale had always gone to great pains to avoid talking about his personal life.

It made Qrow think of a conversation he'd had with Ozpin once, back when he'd first gotten brought into Ozpin's little inner circle. James had been simply shadowing Headmaster Silver back then, always with his head held high but quiet and always avoiding anything that took him from his work. The old headmaster had a certain sort of warmth about him, one that seemed to match James' cold.

Ozpin had explained some things to him later on. Being in Atlas for the first time for real, Qrow could really see what Ozpin had meant when they'd said that _the Great War scarred Atlas and Mantle differently._

It made sense, in a twisted, sick way, that the people whose government had tried to ban the arts and expression, were also the ones that were discouraged from getting _personal_. Qrow saw it in James every day, the practiced distance and schooled expressions.

The hug from earlier could only be described as a _slip_ by Atlesian standards.

Ozpin had explained it like there was some sort of training that went on, all about containing the emotions.

Maybe that was why James was so cold, why his Ace Ops only seemed to work together with the understanding that it was a job and for no other reason. It explained the rumors of arranged marriages among the Atlesian Elite, just _everything_ about Atlas. It explained the unfortunate rarely discussed statistics of the winter months, the way that Weiss took so long to open up, the way that Winter seemed to never have managed to do the same.

It was all a strategy, all meant to keep the grimm at bay by keeping anyone from getting too emotional, or too attached, or anything else.

Feeling nothing was better than feeling bad, something like that. Grimm wouldn't come for _nothing._

Somehow the concept of _generational emotional trauma_ had never occurred to Qrow for real until he was actually there in Atlas, seeing the full effects of it. It was like the life had been sucked out of the people.

Qrow curled up in his seat, all but tucking his feet under himself so that he could keep warm. "I'm just saying, Jim." He spoke up. "It seems like it sucks."

"It's just life." James replied, though he seemed to hesitate. "Besides, I have a reputation to uphold at this point."

Qrow raised an eyebrow. The first word that came to mind for what James' reputation could have been was _heartless._ He knew better than to even _think_ about saying it to James' face. What else James' reputation could be—

The general seemed to pick up on his hesitation and sighed heavily. "I'm married to my job, Qrow." He finished. "Everyone on this damned continent knows it too."

And yeah, _that_ certainly checked out.

"Do you ever think about leaving them?" Qrow asked. "The jobs, I mean." The James Ironwood he knew would never leave the people.

James let out a bitter sort of laugh and shook his head. "How could I ever even consider it, at a time like this?"

"You're _killing _yourself." Qrow blurted out, probably a little too quickly based on the way that James flinched at the words. "Nobody's meant to carry that much, James."

"No." James admitted. "Nobody is. But right now, I _have_ to. The world is ending, Salem is stronger than she's been in… a while. Two of the academies have been attacked. Both have been lost. Haven may still be standing, but the huntsmen that were meant to protect it are gone. It's a carcass, same as Vale and Beacon. How could I ever even pretend like Atlas doesn't need me at a time like this?"

"And Mantle?"

"Sacrifices have to be made." James said bluntly. "Restoring communications has to be a priority. For the sake of Remnant. It's a temporary discomfort, that's all."

Qrow frowned. It was sick, but in a way he _knew_ that James was right. Even if the endgame of the general's plan was that they'd tell the world about Salem, bringing the world back online was _important_. There was a reason that the academies, and even normal schools that weren't dedicated to training warriors stressed the importance of the CCT networks.

With a new tower online, they could reach out to the survivors in Vale. To _Glynda_, who was just as involved in fighting Salem as they were.

They could reach to Vacuo for help.

He let out a breath. "I just think maybe it wouldn't hurt to take from Atlas for a bit."

"If it were that simple, I would." James admitted. "But for resources to be diverted from Atlas would attract a little too much attention through transport alone. I can't risk it. People don't miss cargo ships flying down from the city."

Qrow watched James' face, wishing that he could do _anything_ to lessen James' load.

In the back of his mind, Qrow _knew_ perfectly well where James was mentally.

He wasn't in Atlas, not entirely.

He was off on some blood soaked battlefield years away, or he was in the streets of Vale as a city crumbled around him.

"Look…" Qrow began to speak up, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe if you let yourself get some sleep it'd be a little easier. You'd be able to think a little clearer, right?"

James continued to thumb at the edge of the book in his lap. "It's no use." James mumbled, rubbing at his eyes like it would do something to take away some of his exhaustion. "I'd have to be up in a few hours anyways. At this point, I'm afraid I'd just make it worse."

"Can't take a day off?"

"I can't even justify considering it." James mumbled. "Much less doing it."

"What about sleeping in?" Qrow prodded. This was one that he _knew_ the answer to. The James Ironwood that he knew hadn't managed to sleep in on a single day in his entire life, not when he was able to be up and doing _anything _in the morning.

Truth was that they guy was the worst kind of morning person. The kind with _motivation._

Qrow just wished that James didn't funnel those mornings into his work like he did the rest of his time. He was pretty sure that James had absolutely nothing in the way of a social life in Atlas, and if he'd tried at one point it had been lost entirely.

It was lonely at the top, that was the expression, wasn't it?

Maybe what James really needed was a friend, not a subordinate.

All he'd had for a long time was subordinates.

"I can't justify it." James said, his voice sad. "I'm sorry."

Qrow swallowed hard.

"You should get some rest." James told him, thumb still worrying at the edges of the book in his lap.

"Only if you promise to get some rest too." Qrow bit back, because he needed to set some sort of boundary there. James couldn't insist that everyone else did something when he refused to do the same for himself. Qrow didn't have the time or energy for that sort of hypocrisy.

James looked back at Qrow, and for the first time Qrow felt like he got a _really_ good look at the general. There were dark circles under his eyes that Qrow didn't remember seeing there earlier, to the point where Qrow had to wonder whether James had been covering those circles up. The facial hair wasn't strictly a _bad_ look for James, but it barely hid the sharpness of his cheekbones.

He looked… old. Older than Qrow knew he was.

James sighed. "I'll consider it."

Not good enough.

Qrow folded his legs under him in James' chair, all in the name of making it blatantly clear that he wasn't going anywhere unless James did the same. While James was famously stubborn, Qrow was just as bad and he and the general were _both_ well aware of that fact.

There was a reason that most of their arguments would end up as some sort of stalemate by the end. Qrow couldn't even begin to count the number of times that it had ended with an agreement that the two of them needed to disagree.

James glared back at him. "Qrow."

"No." Qrow crossed his arms over his chest. "You want me to get some rest, you have to do the same. Staying up late and killing yourself isn't something that I'm okay with seeing. I know that _you've _probably done some mental gymnastics to justify it, but it's not going to work on me."

There was a silence that settled there, save for the tiny sounds of the pages of James' book as James continued to fidget with the edges on and on. Maybe it was the only thing that was keeping him tethered to the ground, Qrow thought. Probably serving the same purpose that being up late reading had.

"C'mon." Qrow said, quietly. "One night. That's all I'm asking for. You can go back to working yourself to death in the morning."

James was silent.

"You'll feel better." Qrow mumbled. "I know it as well as you do. Not enough sleep, you get twitchy and on edge."

"Qrow—"

"You can't deny it, Jim."

With that, all of James seemed to deflate at once.

Qrow knew he'd won.

"C'mon." Qrow said, standing up and nudging gently at James' shoulder. "You've got a nice bed here, right? Might as well use it."

"Qrow—" James mumbled, standing up as Qrow urged him on. Qrow set his hands on the center of James' back, steering him towards the door of the study. James pulled away from him then, just enough to put some space between the two of them.

"What's keeping you now?"

James rolled his eyes, picked up his book from the table and tucked it away in a drawer which he locked once it was out of sight. The bottle and glass were cleared away and left on a tray on the desk, probably to make the cleanup easier on his butler. Lastly, James poked at the fireplace.

"Should be fine." Qrow said.

"Just making sure." James answered. "It's contained but I don't like to leave it burning all the time, generally speaking."

"Right."

James shifted the logs in the fire around expertly, even reaching in with his metal arm so that he could do it with more control. Qrow watched with interest. He _knew_ that James couldn't feel all that much on his right side— James had drunkenly admitted that to him some time years before while they'd been enjoying Vale. The way that James had explained it was he got mostly pressure, but not heat or cold.

But he'd never seen James reach into something that would obviously hurt him otherwise like that.

In a way, it scared Qrow that James would so something so _reckless._

But it was over sooner than he realized. James was back on his feet and beginning to lead the way out of the room.

All at once, Qrow realized that there was something _off_ about what was happening.

"Whose room?" Qrow asked, since he had a feeling that James had understood what he'd meant in the first place.

James swallowed. "What?"

Qrow rolled his eyes. "Come on, Jimmy." He said, stepping straight into the General's space because there was something going on there. Something that he _desperately_ wanted to get to the bottom of. "You wanted to have drinks tonight and be with me, right?"

All at once, James seemed to deflate.

"You wanted it." Qrow said. "And I'm giving you that because you're clearly not going to ask me upfront. So whose room?"

James clearly understood it as the challenge that it was. He looked down at Qrow's hands and reached out to catch him by the wrist with his flesh hand. "Mine." James said. "The bed is bigger."

And yeah, Qrow liked the sound of that.

He let James tug him around until they were outside one of the many bedrooms. James waved his prosthetic hand over an electronic lock and its indicator flickered green without him even having to touch it.

The door opened and James stepped into the room, clearly nervous and slightly buzzed. "Come in."

Qrow crossed the threshold and closed the door behind him. He cast a look around the room and let out a low whistle. James had a pretty impressive setup, that was for sure. The large headboard especially was an interesting touch.

"Nice place."

James rolled his eyes. "I didn't exactly furnish it."

And yeah, it didn't take two eyes for Qrow to know _that_ was bullshit.

The rug was a map of the stars. Only James would have come up with something like that.

The sky window was another thing that only James would have come up with.

"Still." Qrow let himself drop down onto the General's bed, only to frown when he realized just how firm it was. "Well that sucks."

"It's for my back." James mumbled, seating himself on the other side of it. "Not for comfort."

Qrow blinked. "You know you could do more things for your own comfort." He said.

"The bed isn't negotiable, unfortunately." James responded. "My spinal column has been mostly replaced and reinforced. The least I can do is sleep on something that's supportive enough that I can't make it much _worse._"

"Still." Qrow mumbled. "Wouldn't hurt to do more for yourself."

"Qrow—" James began to protest but only sighed as Qrow edged in closer to him. His guard was down, and Qrow fully intended to enjoy it for as much as he could. The general bowed his head, rubbing at his eyes because he was exhausted. "What do you mean?"

Qrow gestured around the room. "Decorations. Having people around."

James rolled his eyes. "I'm perfectly fine with the life of a perpetual bachelor."

Liar.

What a fucking liar.

"You always wanted kids, right?"

James paused in the middle of removing his slippers. "Qrow?"

"Answer the question."

"it's not in the question." James bit back. "What I want doesn't matter. For me to maintain my work and a personal life would be impossible. It'd be cruel to subject anyone up to it. I'd never be able to be around, even if I wanted to."

Qrow blinked. "Is that why you never call?"

Silence fell immediately. There was a look of shame on James' face even, one that Qrow wouldn't have been able to miss even on the worst days. He looked away from Qrow, like that would be enough to hide just how bad he felt.

"Qrow—"

"I'm just saying." Qrow said. "Wouldn't be the first time that I've had to remind you what the send button looks like."

James shook his head. "I would have reached out to you if I could." He said quietly. "You know that, right?"

Qrow nodded. "Yeah." He mumbled, knowing that it was probably mostly true. It wasn't as though he was ever in one place long enough that James could have actually written back to him. With the CCT down most of their avenues of talking weren't available, to be truthful.

In hindsight, Qrow didn't even _know_ whether or not James had gotten the letter that he'd sent before taking the Argus Express.

James was quiet. "I'm used to being alone, Qrow." He knit his fingers together in front of him, his slippers finally gone. "Having other people around is a big change."

Qrow blinked. "When's the last time you had anyone here for reasons that weren't work?"

And yeah, it was really bad when the only response that James could give was a _shrug._ It was about as good of an answer as James saying _never_ would have been.

It made Qrow sigh. "Promise me that you won't push me away?" He asked. "After all of this."

"If we survive this, I won't." James said. "I have a feeling that I'll need you now more than ever."

Qrow blinked, wondering whether or not James was just dancing around his own feelings again. "And?"

James swallowed. "I need you to remember that I have to keep my priorities." The general paused for a long moment, and he looked so _old_ and _tired_ that Qrow wished that he'd never picked up those two council seats in the first place. "As things are, I can't afford to be distracted for any reason." There was a long pause. "Which I suppose would… explain if I've been giving off mixed signals."

"Only a few." Qrow said with a shrug. The sad part was that James Ironwood giving off mixed signals was something that he was _very_ used to. James was the king of mixed signals, always had been if the absolute mess that his relationship with Glynda was any indicator.

If Qrow was being honest with himself, he didn't even know how he was able to put up with it.

"I want you here." James finally finished. "But the fight against Salem comes first. You know that it isn't personal."

"It never is with you." Qrow replied, settling back into James' bed. "You're not some…" _Heartless monster_ Qrow's brain wanted to supply, but he wouldn't _dare_ consider uttering those words. Not with James there in the room with him, with his guard down and tired and anxious and vulnerable. To do that would be cruel. "You don't play around. You never have."

James eyed him. "Is that a compliment?"

"I couldn't think of anything better to say." Qrow deflected. "Are we doing this going to bed thing or not?"

James sat there nervously on the edge of his own bed, like he didn't know whether or not he actually belonged there.

_Definitely_ not used to sharing it with anyone else, then.

"I suppose." James finally relented, getting up and walking to area by the door so that he could turn out the lights.

In the dark, Qrow could make out the _very_ faint glow of the prosthetic indicators on James' chest and arm. They drew steadily closer until the bed _sank_ as James climbed into it, drawing the blanket up over himself which made Qrow scramble to do the same.

Immediately he felt the dust lining in the blanket heat up.

Testing the waters, Qrow edged in a little bit closer to James.

James didn't react much, but Qrow more than felt the general's fingers curling carefully into his own.

Desperate for a touch, but never willing to ask.

All at once Qrow pushed himself up against James and wrapped his arms around the general, putting the two of them as close as physically possible.

James didn't protest it. He only let out a quiet noise and _sank_ into Qrow's touch and the warm contact that he'd so desperately missed.


End file.
